


You could have it all

by xtenn



Series: The Viscount Who Sure As Hell Didn't Deserve Kate [13]
Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Card Games, F/M, Gossip, Kissing, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:21:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtenn/pseuds/xtenn
Summary: You're not here for the historical realism. You're here for the banter.The series that should have been chapters in a single work continues ... All credit to Ms Quinn for her characters and stories.
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield
Series: The Viscount Who Sure As Hell Didn't Deserve Kate [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129715
Comments: 35
Kudos: 143





	1. Chapter 1

Anthony certainly didn't intend ... - no, that isn't entirely right, as he had certainly _considered_ the possibility, thoroughly, many times, and had spent no small amount of time parsing through the various logistics and difficulties and uncertainties, not the least of which was whether it would even be welcome - but is that enough to really be an _intention_?

At any rate, he wanted to think of himself as an honourable man. One who did the right and correct and proper thing. Calling at his intended wife's house during the day, understanding that she could not actually see him as she was still confined to her chambers, but gracefully accepting light refreshment with her mother and younger sister, making the appropriate enquiries as to her health and recovery, and so on. Grateful for at least being welcome to their home.

This, thought Anthony, was who he truly should be - if he was ever to be worthy of Kate, at least. And as a gentleman - a patient, considerate, and faithful gentleman, he reminded himself - he could surely tolerate a daily cup of tea with her mother, even if it meant he couldn't see Kate herself. 

Anthony could even tolerate knowing that his younger sister Eloise spent every second afternoon in Kate's chambers playing cards. He'd heard them - _laughing outrageously_ \- as he sat and drank tea with Mrs Sheffield in the parlour. This was all _fine_. It had to be.

But it had been fourteen days since the accident. Fourteen days since he had last seen her, drugged to sleep.

Would she remember him kissing her, stroking her hair - would she remember what he had said? Were his feelings reciprocated? _When_ would he know?

In the entire month previous, there had been only that one dance - that had been the extent of their communication, and it simply was not sufficient. Certainly, while Anthony had put more ink to paper in that time than he had in any period of time previously, sheet after sheet of parchment ended up in his fire. He simply didn't have the words.

All of this is to say: Lord Bridgerton was _not_ the sort of man who would intentionally sneak into the bedroom of his lady beloved, unannounced, while she was too incapacitated to escape - no matter how much he may have thought about it. No, he was _not_ \- or at least, was _not any longer_ \- or at least, _should not be any longer_ \- a rake, and he certainly would not act in such a way with his Kate. 

But ... life had a way of creating ideal circumstances and situations, and Anthony also wanted to consider himself as the sort of man who would never refuse such a perfect opportunity. His time on Earth was short, after all - and opportunities that are this perfect do not happen every day - and besides which, hadn't he already suffered enough? Had not the last few months been torture - a litany of endless errors and separations and bad decisions and misinterpretations - so in some way, didn't he deserve this? 

"Sir?" the footman asked again, drawing Anthony out of his thoughts, a wry grin and a twinkle in his eye. "As I was saying, I am indebted to you for my new position here with the Sheffield family - I am not sure quite how I could ever repay you."

Anthony shook his head quickly, trying to make sense of the events of the evening that had led him here - late at night, at the door to the Sheffield's townhouse. He had returned to his home early from his club, finding no enjoyment there. Once again, he had scratched out a woefully inadequate note to Kate - but given that it was a mild evening, and two full weeks had already passed, without further thought he had rushed over to her home to deliver it. But now this footman had diligently clasped his hands behind his back - refusing to take it, to deliver it these last few yards into Kate's hands.

"So Miss Kate Sheffield is awake? At this hour?"

"Yes, sir," the footman sighed. "As I have just mentioned, Miss Kate's supper tray has just been taken to her before her maid retired for the evening. Mrs and Miss Edwina Sheffield are at the theatre for the evening and are not expected home for ... ooh, at least several hours."

"And so I could ..." Anthony was lost for words. Surely, the footman was not suggesting ... was he?

"I wanted to thank you, Lord Bridgerton, again - for your referral for this position. I particularly appreciated your comments on my discretion. And tact." Honestly, the Viscount was as thick as two short planks sometimes. Wasn't he meant to be a famous lothario? How much more obvious could a man be? "But if you wanted that note delivered at this hour, it would not be my position to do so."

Another pause. An exchanged glance.

"If I may remind you that the balance of the staff have all turned in for the night, your lord?" the footman stepped backwards slightly, indicating again Anthony should enter. 

"All of them?" Anthony asked, stepping forward quietly. "And she's .. Miss Kate ... is awake?"

"Yes, my lord. Awake. In her chambers. On the second floor, the third door on the right, if memory serves."

"Indeed," Anthony nodded, quickening his pace now he had stepped inside, not willing to draw out the distance of time and space between Kate and himself any longer than necessary. "Your discretion is always appreciated, Stuart. I'm glad your new role suits you so well."


	2. Chapter 2

When Anthony entered her room, Kate froze - her glass of wine halfway to her lips, her dinner tray perched across her lap. 

"What the devil ...?" Young ladies were not taught sufficient curse words, she thought. I'm in bed. I'm in my nightgown. I haven't done my hair. This was not how I planned to see him again. 

He pressed a finger to his lips with a smile and closed the door behind him. _God_ , she was beautiful - her hair out around her shoulders, in a simple white nightgown, in the same bed where he had stroked her hair and kissed her face. He held on to the doorknob behind him, trying to catch his breath and prevent himself from leaping forward to hold her. A rose tint had returned to her cheeks, a hint of the good health she had enjoyed before her accident. She had never looked so lovely. He could just take a few steps, and then she would be in his arms, and he could ...

 _She's got a broken leg you lecher_ , he reminded himself. _Calm down._

"How did you get in here?" Kate asked again, trying to regain some sort of composure, her hands reaching to her chest in belated modesty. The rake of the _ton_ was in her bedchamber, at night, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"The usual manner," Anthony smirked. "I knocked on your front door."

"If you're found in here ..." Kate tried to continue, swallowing more of her wine in an attempt to calm her nerves.

"... then we will be forced to marry, which is a risk I am willing to accept." Seeing only confusion on Kate's face, Anthony suddenly panicked. "Of course, if that would not be ... I could always go ..."

"No! No," Kate rushed out. "No, please come in - where are my manners, after all?" This was surreal. Had she really just said that?

Anthony stepped forward to the chair by her bed, and once again Kate was reminded of a cat - stalking its prey, his eyes never leaving her face. What in Heaven was she getting in for? She had wondered that night in his study, and again in the library at Aubrey Hall when he had kissed her and she had touched him, if this meant she had fallen - if this was desire - if this meant her nervous contemplations that perhaps he really did care for her were in fact true - or if she was just a toy to him, a game, yet another woman to seduce. Adrenaline fizzed under her skin, making her bold.

"Of course, my lord, I assume you do not intend to get caught?" Kate archly commented. He hasn't offered you marriage, a voice in her head warned - you have everything to lose, including your heart. 

"Naturally." You are distressingly good at avoiding marriage with me, he thought bitterly to himself, irrespective of my intentions. The ring was burning a hole in his pocket. How exactly was one expected to propose again? After everything that had occurred between them - after everything he had so foolishly and erroneously said to Kate regarding any marriage between them, about love, how could he start? _Look, I am in love with you but I am afraid of leaving you too soon - would you be amenable to marrying me anyway?_

"You are well?" _Well done_ , he internally chastised himself - what a question when she is confined to bed with a broken leg.

"As well as can be expected - I understand you receive daily updates on my medical care from Mary," Kate drily replied. 

Anthony exhaled, shifting in the chair, trying to gather his wits and failing - salvation found when his eyes fell to the deck of playing cards on her bedside table. "Tell me - what game do you usually play with my sister?" 

"Whist, my lord," Kate responded, baffled. What in Heaven was he doing here? Do young men regularly arrange to be in young women's bedchambers at night - to talk about _cards_?

"Not vingt-et-un?"

"Your sister Eloise claims she does not receive sufficient allowance to gamble."

At this Anthony laughed, "She would receive more than sufficient if she actually won."

"Yes, but do you think that's likely with me at the table?"

Anthony grabbed the cards and began to shuffle. "You're on, Miss Sheffield. Name your odds."

Kate sat up straighter, shifting her tray to the side. "You find me embarrassingly short of blunt, my lord."

The viscount shrugged, his tongue touching his top lip, with the lazy grin of a predator. "Surely there's something else you might want from me?" _A kiss? For me to clamber into that bed next to you, and show you pleasure? A few years of my life?_ Anthony's mind readily supplied any number of suitable options.

Kate thought quickly, her heart racing. Young women are not prepared for this, she thought to herself again. Never, ever. "If I win, you'll teach me to curse - properly," she eventually managed with a blush. "All of the words. All of their meanings. All of their uses."

Anthony leant forward - partly in surprise and partly to subtly disguise his erection. Good lord this woman drove him insane.

"Deal, and if I win?"

"You won't," Kate interjected, eyes flashing.

"But if I do ... you'll call me Anthony again."

"Deal, Lord Bridgerton."

Ten minutes later, Anthony realised he was infinitely too sober to explain what _bugger, bollocks_ or _fuck_ actually meant.

"Are you blushing, Lord Bridgerton?" Kate commented coolly. 

"I do wish you would call me Anthony. And when did you expect your mother home?"

"Do I need to remind you that you lost, Lord Bridgerton?" Kate pressed. "You have only explained ... _shit_... so far." What a fantastic word. _Shit._ Kate felt like she could say it all day. _Shit shit shit._

Anthony stood up quickly, leaning forward to the bed and capturing that gorgeous filthy mouth with a kiss. It was simultaneously wonderful and inadequate, and hopefully enough of a distraction.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked. "Say yes, Kate."

"You know where I'll be," Kate smiled, " _Anthony_."

Just one more kiss, Anthony said to himself. Just one, then I'll go, and I'll come back tomorrow.

Just one more.


	3. Chapter 3

"It is simply incredibly unfair," Eloise continued, in one of her typical rants about the injustice of their society over their afternoon game of cards, "that we are expected to marry a man and spend the rest of our lives with him, having never even been kissed!"

"Certainly some ladies marry having already been kissed," Edwina added with a smirk. Kate ignored it and hoped she hadn't blushed, focusing diligently on her cards. 

"And more besides," Penelope added quietly. "If that truly is how a lady comes to be with child, or how else would some babies be born so quickly after a wedding?"

"Yes, but there's talk - there's always talk - and no-one ever talks about a man kissing a woman," Eloise whined. 

"As long as she is not a lady, of course," Penelope clarified, to general agreement. Kate started to sweat and fanned herself lightly with her cards.

"Don't you all want to know? What it is like, to kiss a man, before we are expected to spend the rest of our lives married?" Eloise pressed. "And how _does_ a lady come to be with child?"

"Some of us might already know," Edwina smiled. 

"Miss Edwina May Sheffield, this is not appropriate," Kate finally snapped. _I'm going to kill her,_ Kate thought. _This time, I'm going to absolutely kill her._

Eloise and Penelope exchanged glances with quiet giggles. Clearly Edwina had touched a nerve. But what nerve was it?

"Well to change the topic entirely, Kate," Eloise commented. "When will you be able to accept visitors? Or leave the house? Any news on your recovery?"

"Why do you ask, El?" Edwina asked quickly. "Is a certain _brother of yours_ ..."

Kate threw her cards across the room, hitting Edwina squarely in the face. Edwina squealed with wicked laughter. 

"And what about _Mr Matthew Bagwell,_ hmm?" Kate shot back. "Care to tell us all about that young man?"

Now it was Edwina's turn to blush. Surely Kate didn't know about that moment in the meadow, all those weeks ago at Aubrey Hall? Since then - since the accident - there had been nothing but lingering glances and trailing fingers. And while Kate certainly did not know about that _moment in the meadow_ \- she was certainly perceptive enough to see those scarlet cheeks. 

"Ohohoho!" Kate chuckled. "I see we have an expert in kissing in our midst."

"It was _one kiss!_ " Edwina hotly responded. "And _nothing_ since. If you don't get back on your feet soon, his guilt about this whole situation will scare him away for good."

"I wouldn't be afraid of that," Penelope kindly added.

"Yes," Eloise joked, "He can hardly forget you - your handiwork is right across his face."

It was now Edwina who threw her cards at Eloise in a mock huff. "I'd like to see you do better!"

"Ladies! Please!" Kate admonished. "Can we _please_ resume the game?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Got distracted with another work because I really felt like swearing, and lack of historical realism aside, in this era, Kate just doesn't know how.


End file.
